


Dragon Slayer

by abundantlyqueer



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-16
Updated: 2008-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-13 01:57:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abundantlyqueer/pseuds/abundantlyqueer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orlijah plays merry hell with the dragon fantasy genre.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_**fomg pr0n!!!**_

this pretty much fell out of my brain onto the keyboard. orlijah plays merry hell with the dragon fantasy genre.

lotrips au, ew/ob, pornotastic, this chapter fully clothed humping and a helpful hand. later chapters escalate to whatever orlando and i can come up with.

"You accept my terms?" Orlando asks softly. "You - _understand_ my terms?"

Elijah blushes a little, the color coming up on his cheekbones and making his eyes even bluer by contrast, but he holds Orlando's gaze steadily.

"You are not so very different from other men," Elijah says, "no matter what the witch says. You are not the first who has offered to trade for my body."

Orlando's mouth curls in a slight smile, though his eyes turn cold.

"Then it shouldn't trouble you a great deal to - "

"You _are_ the first to offer a trade I will accept," Elijah says sharply.

Orlando's smile dies; he frowns, but his eyes seem softer and more alive than before.

"I am sorry," he says. "If you are giving to me in trade what you have previously given only in love … then I am richly paid."

Elijah abruptly drops his gaze, twisting his fingers in the corner of his tunic.

"I - "

He looks up at Orlando again, his mouth set but his eyes absolutely shattering with uncertainty.

"I - haven't - _given_ \- it - myself - in trade or love or _anything_ ," Elijah says, embarrassment giving way to a kind of desperate honesty as he forces the words out. "I can't _give_ you anything because I don't know - you must _take_ what you think is fair payment of me."

Orlando's frown turns to gentle dismay.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you selling - "

Elijah flashes him a look of pure pleading.

" - what is beyond price?" Orlando finishes gently.

Elijah's eyes turn suddenly hard and bright.

"To kill a dragon," he says. "To kill the dragon Eyzart."

Orlando stares for a second, then turns on his heel and walks to the edge of the rock. He stares out into the darkness, his hand tapping arhythmically against his thigh. After a few more seconds Elijah scrambles up onto his feet and goes after him.

"You agreed to a trade," Elijah insists, "your teaching in return for - me. No man complains that a thing is worth _more_ then he thought; you cannot release me from our bargain."

Orlando turns to face Elijah.

"Oh, I will not release you - " Orlando begins sharply, and then collects himself to calmness. "I will not release you."

Elijah tilts away, relieved, but instinctively wary. Orlando watches him move back to the fire.

"I promise you," Orlando says, "you _will_ kill him."

Elijah stops, and looks at Orlando. He nods carefully.

"Go and lie down," Orlando says, lifting his chin to indicate the bedding spread under the overhang of the cave.

Elijah's jaw flexes; he squares his shoulders, and nods again. He turns his back to Orlando, undoing the knot of his sword belt as he walks away. He sets his sword sheath carefully against the rock wall, sword hilt upwards. He heels his boots off and tosses them aside, then sinks to his knees on the faded velvet blankets.

Orlando walks to the fire and scuffs a little dirt onto the sides, and drops a couple of logs into the center. He goes to Elijah's horse, throwing down a few more handfuls of hay for him and tugging the horsecloth up on his shoulders.

Elijah scoots next to the wall, leaving as much space as possible for Orlando. Orlando walks into the cave, already undoing the clasps at the front of his leaf-mail coat. Elijah stretches out onto his side, his body making a perfectly tensed arrow from head to toes.

"Don't be afraid," Orlando says gently, shrugging the glittering metal coat off. "I won't hurt you - I have no desire to cause you pain."

"I'm not afraid," Elijah says steadily.

Orlando smiles slightly, and nods acceptance of the lie. He lays his coat out, half on the blankets and half on the ground. He crouches down, leaning over Elijah. Elijah draws his chin in a little, and presses his shoulders back, and points his toes.

"Let me teach you, in this too," Orlando says. "I will teach you the death of dragons, because you desire it … let me teach you men's love, because I desire it."

Elijah inhales softly, an 'oh' of surprise, and his body eases a little. Orlando brings one knee down onto the blankets, leaning lower. Elijah's open mouth forms another shape, another sound …

" … yes … "

Orlando goes down on both knees and bends over, bringing his face close to Elijah's. Elijah stares up at him, alert but no longer anxious. Orlando rests one hand lightly on Elijah's ribs; Elijah's attention flickers, and then returns to Orlando's face. Orlando bends lower, and touches his lips to Elijah's.

Elijah's body shifts a little, simultaneously relaxing and reaching toward Orlando's. Orlando grazes his lips against Elijah's, and draws back slightly. Elijah stares up at him, nothing but pleasure and eagerness in his expression now.

Orlando smiles broadly, and lies down facing Elijah.

"What country of loveless men do you come from?" Orlando murmurs, moving his hand up and down a little on Elijah's side. "Or are they merely blind?"

Elijah's gaze flickers away, and he blushes a little.

"You are beautiful," Orlando murmurs.

Elijah's eyes come back to Orlando's face. Elijah's expression flares with pride. Orlando tips his own weight over slightly, bringing his face to Elijah's again. Orlando kisses him, lightly, coaxingly, giving him a chance to learn the shape and texture and taste of Orlando's lips. Elijah's eyes flutter closed, and he makes a breathy little sound of acceptance.

Orlando presses in a little closer, his thighs brushing Elijah's. His hand tightens on Elijah's waist, tugging him in against his chest. Orlando's mouth opens a little more, and pushes insistently at Elijah's mouth.

Elijah quivers, his body losing some of its ease, but he presses up to Orlando readily enough. He lets Orlando rock his mouth open, and slip his tongue behind Elijah's teeth. Elijah's hand blunders against Orlando's chest, and he splays his fingers over the triangle of bare skin at the neck of his tunic.

Orlando's fingers flex on Elijah's side, a slow steady rhythmic squeeze and release. His tongue works the same rhythm in Elijah's mouth, curling and stroking. Orlando's body pushes subtly against Elijah's, from chest to hips to knees. Elijah yields, his body molding to Orlando's movements.

Orlando lifts his mouth from Elijah's, and presses kisses to Elijah's cheek, his jaw, the place where his neck meets his ear. Elijah gasps, clutching at Orlando's tunic.

Orlando's hand skims up and down Elijah's side, rucking his tunic up around his hip. Orlando runs his hand down the outside of Elijah's thigh, and back up. Elijah draws his knee up a little, and stirs his hips restlessly.

"So beautiful," Orlando breathes, the words hot and damp against Elijah's ear.

Elijah smears his hand sideways, across the bare skin of Orlando's chest, inside his tunic.

"Y-yess," Orlando hisses.

Elijah opens his eyes, watching the subtle twist of Orlando's features as Elijah moves his hand up, around the side of Orlando's neck and into his hair. Elijah jerks his chin slightly, questioning.

"You are my pupil, not my property," Orlando says softly, his teeth half-bared. "And you didn't learn swordsmanship by letting someone else hold the sword, did you? You must try for yourself."

Elijah flushes, but his eyes glitter. He flexes his fingers in Orlando's hair. Orlando twitches the corners of his eyes in subtle encouragement. Elijah licks his own lips, and pushes up in Orlando's embrace, and brings his mouth to Orlando's.

Orlando opens to him, urging him on with a fractional press and yield of his own mouth. Elijah flickers his tongue against the edges of Orlando's teeth, and then reaches deep, exploring the satin and sweetness inside his mouth.

Orlando lifts his hand from Elijah's leg to touch his face, thumbing gently at the corner of his mouth. Elijah pushes into their kiss, sharp eager little shoves of his weight that rock his whole body against Orlando's.

Elijah slips his hand from the nape of Orlando's neck, down his back, around to his hip. Orlando's tunic is gathered up under him, leaving a strip of skin bare above the top of his pants. Elijah slices his fingertips along the skin. Orlando growls softly, pushing back against Elijah's hand and then forwards against his body.

Elijah angles his hand, slipping his finger up inside Orlando's tunic, following the bony crest of his spine upwards until he runs out of accessibility, somewhere just below Orlando's shoulder-blades.

Orlando's hand moves down Elijah's body, squeezing his hip and then curving back onto his behind, rocking Elijah in more tightly against Orlando. Elijah's erection is pressed tightly into Orlando's stomach, and Orlando's is against Elijah's thigh. Elijah instinctively draws his knee up a little, rubbing his thigh against Orlando's groin. Orlando huffs his breath out into Elijah's mouth, and pushes back hard enough for Elijah to feel the iron of Orlando's cock through both layers of clothing.

Elijah pushes back too. For a moment they're just straining against each other, then the insistent push becomes a cooperative push and yield, Elijah letting Orlando push against him, and as Orlando eases back, Elijah pushing forwards.

They make soft noises, breathy gasps and sighs that stay half-trapped between their mouths. Their hands clutch hard at each other, Orlando's fingers indenting the curve of Elijah's buttock, Elijah's fingers clawing into the smooth skin of Orlando's back.

Orlando lifts his head, grimacing in pleasure.

" _Oh_ \- "

"Please please please," Elijah mutters, arching tensely, winding one leg over Orlando's thigh as if to trap him in Elijah's embrace.

They're breathing hard, gripping each other, wound together tightly. Elijah has found an angle and a pressure that rubs the head of cock mercilessly against his own belly, where the skin is slick with his own secretions. He clings to Orlando, driving himself ruthlessly against the heat and hardness Orlando supplies.

"Elijah," Orlando says, his breath hotter than flame on Elijah's lips. "Elijah - _dragon killer_."

Elijah grunts, convulses, his body shuddering in Orlando's arms.

"Yes," Orlando presses kisses on Elijah's lips and eyelids. "Yes … yes."

Elijah drags in a great breath, and slowly relaxes. Orlando murmurs against his lips. Elijah falls away a little, onto his back, breathing hard.

Orlando slips his hand under his own clothing, lifting his tunic out of the way and pulling the front of his pants open. Elijah's breath rasps, and he flexes his fist on the blanket.

"Hush, hush," Orlando says hastily, though Elijah hasn't spoken. "Just this … just … give me your hand."

" _Oh_ ," Elijah breathes.

Between them they fumble Orlando's clothing aside, and his cock springs out straight. Elijah grips the shaft, eyes wide. Orlando, his breath tearing through his nostrils, wraps his hand over Elijah's.

"Like - like this," Orlando guides the push and pull of Elijah's hand on him.

Elijah whines helplessly, the smell of Orlando's body and the texture of his cock and the shivers still running through Elijah's own body all overwhelming him. Orlando squeezes Elijah's hand more tightly, and thrusts raggedly into their combined fists.

"Yes - I - oh," Orlando pants.

Elijah gapes, and then shoves his mouth against Orlando's, devouring the sounds Orlando is making. Orlando grunts, hard enough to puff Elijah's cheeks, and his boot heel scuffs in the dirt beyond the edge of the blanket. Elijah's hand cramps from the tightness of his own grip and the pressure of Orlando's grip on his fingers. Abruptly Orlando's cock jumps in Elijah's fist, and warm semen drops on his knuckles and the inside of his wrist.

Orlando sounds like he's sobbing, choking down big gasps of air. He peels away from Elijah and collapses onto his back.

"Enough," Orlando says breathlessly. "It is enough for tonight."

Elijah grins breathlessly. His mind is whirling, but his body unravels into rest, sleep coming over him before his heartbeat has fully slowed.

Elijah wakes briefly to Orlando wiping him clean with a soft cloth. He falls asleep again before Orlando has even finished.

 

"The spear," Orlando says, dropping the weapon on the ground next to the blankets.

Elijah sits up, squinting against the daylight. He realizes his clothes are hanging open, and pulls the sides of his tunic together over his hairless chest.

"I'm a knight, not a foot soldier," he says. "I fight with a sword, on horseback."

"The horse hasn't been bred that will stand against a dragon," Orlando says, weighing a second spear in his own hand. "And why should it? A dragon can kill a warhorse as easily as a dog kills a rat. If you fight dragons, you fight on your own two feet."

Elijah looks from Orlando to the spear on the ground, and then at the tumble of blankets gathered in his own lap. He lifts his chin deliberately, sweeps the blankets aside and stands up.

"Very well," he says, with a slight smile. "Teach me."


	2. Chapter 2

"Sore?" Orlando asks mildly, when Elijah hisses his breath out through clenched teeth.

Elijah is crouching over a bucket of water next to the fire, trying rather fruitlessly to wash the aches out of his bare shoulders and arms with a wet cloth.

"I didn't think I was this weak," he says, dropping the cloth back into the water. "I haven't hurt this much since I was boy, learning to swing a sword."

"Different muscles," Orlando says, coming towards him with a shallow wooden bowl in one hand. "You'll strengthen quickly, though. Eat, sleep - I plan to work you just as hard tomorrow."

Elijah accepts the bowl from Orlando's hand and sets it down next to him while he chaffs himself dry again with a rough towel. He pulls his tunic on over his head, but doesn't bother to tie it closed.

The food is warm and well-spiced. Elijah eats quickly, pushing the food down past the growing pressure in his chest. Orlando moves silently round the camp, emptying Elijah's wash-water out onto the ground and turning the bucket upside down to drain. He kicks at the fire a little, sending a stream of sparks up into the dark.

"I suppose - " Elijah begins, then clears his throat and tries again. "I suppose - you will teach me _another_ kind of lesson now?"

Orlando glances at him, his eyes dark and strangely static.

"Not tonight," Orlando says lightly, "you're tired. Learning shouldn't be a chore - least of all _that_ kind of learning."

"Oh," Elijah says.

"Lie down, go to sleep," Orlando says.

Elijah obeys, kicks his boots off and lies down on the bedding, facing the wall of the cave. He pulls the blankets up to his shoulders and closes his eyes.

He listens to the soft jingle of Orlando's mail-coat as Orlando approaches, and the ring of the garment being taken off and laid out on the ground. Elijah strains into the silence between his own heartbeats, finding the small sounds of Orlando's stripping his boots off, pulling the tails of his shirt out of his pants, toeing the blankets aside on his side of the bedding.

Orlando lies down; Elijah's skin shimmers even though they're not touching.

Orlando shifts, grunting softly as he settles himself more comfortably, but still inches away from Elijah. Orlando's breathing smoothes. Elijah listens to the fire, to the wind, to the scurry of his own thoughts.

He shifts restlessly, curling up on his side, his thighs pressing against his stiffened cock.

Orlando moves fractionally. Elijah freezes. Cloth whispers against cloth, and again, an odd incoherent repeat of sound that Elijah understands at once. He twists, rolls over, reaches for Orlando all in one blind motion.

There's a spilt second when Orlando is laid out beneath Elijah's hand, but then he shoves up onto one elbow, onto his side, onto Elijah. Elijah's breath huffs out noisily.

Orlando smears his mouth across Elijah's. Somehow, with no actual consultation, they are in utter agreement that nothing is more urgent than getting Elijah's tunic off. Orlando has both hands up inside the loose folds of the garment, pushing the coarse cloth up Elijah's stomach and chest so that he's bare from navel to nipples. Elijah pitches to one side and then the other, trying to snag the back of the tunic out from under his shoulders.

"Uh - wait - yes," he pants, as Orlando wrenches himself up off Elijah, giving him enough space to curl up and rip the tunic off over his head.

Elijah falls back, throwing his tunic aside as he does. Orlando plunges back down, grinding himself against Elijah's bare skin, both hands skimming and sliding and smearing over Elijah's chest.

"Oh - God," Elijah gasps, as Orlando's mouth burns kisses against Elijah's throat. "Yes."

Orlando slithers downwards, kissing the silky skin of Elijah's breastbone. Elijah twists his fingers in Orlando's hair, and lifts his hips brazenly against Orlando's stomach.

"Yes - "

Orlando thrusts up onto his knees, straddling Elijah's legs. Elijah bends one knee, pressing it into the underside of Orlando's cock. Orlando hisses, teeth bared. He tears open the front of his shirt, bundling the faded blood-red silk off his arms, off his back, and flings it away.

When he comes down again, both of them gasp at the first touch of skin to skin. Orlando pushes his tongue into Elijah's mouth. They're each straddling the other's thigh, Elijah's heel rucking the blankets, and Orlando's toes scuffing in the dirt. Elijah hooks one foot over the back of Orlando's heel, tightening the connection between them.

They shove, push, rock with a brutal rhythm that threatens to tumble them both over the edge.

Elijah grunts, pushes Orlando's tongue out from between his teeth.

"No - this - " Elijah gasps, trying to shove Orlando up off him.

" _What?_ " Orlando mumbles, dragging himself upwards reluctantly.

"This - this," Elijah says feverishly, his hands at the waist of Orlando's pants. "Let me - touch - "

"Fuck," Orlando laughs breathily. "Yes."

He hauls up onto his knees again, Elijah sitting up with him. Between them, they manage to get Orlando's pants open and pushed down onto his thighs. His cock stands out stiffly from a silky growth of dark hair. Elijah braces himself on one hand, and reaches with the other.

"Like - this?" he murmurs, taking hold of Orlando's shaft.

"Y-yess," Orlando exhales.

Elijah glances up, savoring the grimace of pleasure on Orlando's face, and then looks down again to the junction of hand and cock. He pushes, pulls, his grip tight and his movement brisk. Orlando's breath tumbles from his open mouth.

Elijah's nostrils flare, as the sour-salt smell of Orlando's cock fills his nose and mouth. Orlando's cock leaks a smear of glossy liquid, and Elijah licks his own lips unconsciously. Orlando tilts his weight back, reaching down behind himself, snugging his hand into Elijah's crotch.

"Oh - fuck," Elijah mutters.

He tries to focus on what he's doing to Orlando, on keeping his rhythm steady and his grip even. Orlando flexes his fingers around Elijah's cock, through his pants. Elijah jitters, trying to rub himself against Orlando's hand with no leverage at all. His breath bellows in and out of his nostrils, and his thighs shake from frustration and excitement. He drops his head and rounds his shoulders, his body curling in on itself as he tries to lift his hips higher.

He exhales hard, and his face is close enough to Orlando's crotch that Orlando growls at the flurry of heat on the head of his cock. He takes hold of himself, his hand over Elijah's.

"Open your mouth," Orlando says hoarsely.

Elijah flashes him an upward glance, eyes wide and his mouth already an 'o' of disbelief. Orlando catches him by the jaw, drawing him in.

"You don't have to do anything, just - breathe," Orlando says, rising up on his knees and pointing his cock at Elijah's mouth.

Elijah's hand escapes from under Orlando's, and goes to Orlando's thigh, clutching at the crest of muscle there. Orlando pushes farther forward, the head of his cock smearing against Elijah's parted lips. Elijah grimaces, licking the first slick of precum away, and then opening his mouth more deliberately. Orlando's cock nudges between Elijah's lips, and onto his tongue. Elijah's hand tightens on Orlando's thigh.

Orlando keeps his hand wrapped around his shaft. With not much more than the glans in Elijah's mouth, Orlando fingers are curled against Elijah's lips. The salt-smoke taste of Orlando's fingers is reassuring, compared to the taste of his cock.

"Oh fuck - yes," Orlando breathes.

He rocks gently, smoothly, swaying his hips but holding himself almost static in Elijah's mouth. Elijah's mouth waters in response to the tingling taste; he swallows as well as he can, while holding his mouth around Orlando's cock.

"Oh - so good," Orlando snarls softly. "So - beautiful."

He's looking down at Elijah, and Elijah looks up; the heat in Orlando's eyes is stunning. Elijah relaxes a little more, his grip on Orlando's thigh turning to a slow hard caress.

Orlando uses his own hand on his shaft to provide the friction and movement he won't take from Elijah's mouth, but as he grows more engrossed he can't help bumping Elijah's lips with his knuckles, or pushing his cock a little further into Elijah's mouth. Elijah holds on, concentrating on swallowing saliva and not letting the quick light shove of Orlando's pelvis tip him onto his back. His arm aches from bracing his own weight; he slips his free hand around to the back of Orlando's thigh, using it to help hold himself up.

"Close - close," Orlando mutters.

Elijah scowls, holding on despite the discomfort in his shoulder and the ache beginning in his jaw. Orlando grips himself tightly, rubbing and pushing and pulling and trying to hold his glans still in Elijah's mouth and signally failing.

"Ah - _aah_."

Elijah flinches as Orlando's cock spews thickly across his tongue and down his throat. He coughs slightly, pulling away and wiping the heel of his hand across his mouth. His lips are hot and swollen from the friction. He lets his weight off his hand, lets himself fall back onto the blankets.

Orlando leans down over him, deliberately inhaling his own smell on Elijah's breath.

"Thank you," Orlando says.

Orlando dips his head and kisses Elijah's mouth, his tongue curling into every corner and cleaning away the tang of his own semen. Elijah's body re-gathers itself, the throb in his cock once again subsuming the aches in his shoulders and arms.

Orlando moves lower, lingering over the notch between Elijah's collarbones, and then down Elijah's chest. Elijah lifts his hips impatiently, grinding his erection against Orlando's chest.

"Yes - _please_ … "

Orlando lifts up onto one elbow, and plucks at the cords of Elijah's pants. Elijah arches, quivering. Orlando pulls the cords open, and peels Elijah's pants back from his hips.

"My turn," Orlando says softly as he leans in.

He doesn't touch Elijah's cock, but uses the tip of his tongue to lift it up a little more than it is already slanting up from Elijah's stomach, and slips his mouth over it. Elijah hacks out a sound of pure shock. Orlando slips Elijah's cock deeper into his mouth. He sucks, hollowing his cheeks, and works his mouth forwards and back briskly. Elijah tenses until his whole body is shuddering with it. Orlando slips his hand between Elijah's bare thighs, his knuckles against the underside of Elijah's balls, and nudges them lightly. Elijah, torn apart by too many sensations and too much pleasure, arches up one more time and comes.

Orlando's eyes flick closed, and he swallows smoothly. He draws back slowly, licking around Elijah's foreskin until Elijah shivers into laughter and squirms away.

Orlando rolls aside, and crawls up to lie next to Elijah.

"You should sleep," Orlando says.

"Mmm," Elijah answers, his breathing already turning tidal.

 

 

"That's a very small shield to protect against a dragon," Elijah says, considering the twelve-inch circle of wood strapped on Orlando's forearm.

"It isn't a shield, it's a target," Orlando says. "You need to be able to hit it with the spear, every time."

"Well, it's a very small target then," Elijah says. "Dragons are very _big_."

"And very _armored_ ," Orlando says, leaning in close enough to make Elijah flush a little. "There's no blade forged that can cut dragon scales, and no spot on a dragon's skin that isn't scaled."

"Then … how - "

"Through his eye," Orlando says, gesturing to his own right eye with one finger. "You must strike through his open eye, into his brain."

Elijah stares at him for a beat.

" … very small target," Elijah says in comprehension.

"Ready to practice?" Orlando asks.

"Yes," Elijah says firmly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was hanging onto this with the intention of 'finishing' it, but i realized there's enough to convey the action for this chapter, and i'm depressed by how little i post these days. so here, have some sketchy orlijah. now with bonus sean bean and miranda being a bitch.

"It's been a while, Fire Breather," Sean says, looking up at Orlando with a slight smile.

Orlando drops his horse's reins, swings his right leg forwards over the front of the saddle, and allows himself to slip down to the ground, onto his feet. Sean takes hold of the horse's bridle and rubs his knuckles carelessly against the animal's brow.

"This is Elijah," Orlando says. "Elijah, this is Sean. He's an artificer - an uncommon maker of armor, and weapons."

"When I've a mind to be," Sean says coolly, watching Elijah swing down from his own horse, "when I'm paid well enough."

Elijah glances at Orlando, but Orlando is looking at Sean.

"Offer us some hospitality," Orlando says. "We can talk trade later."

Sean smirks slightly, but nods agreeably.

"My lords," he says, bowing his head but looking at Elijah and Orlando from under a quirked eyebrow, "will you do me the honor of stepping into my humble house, and taking a bite to eat?"

"Thank you," Elijah says, inclining his head gracefully.

Sean snicks his breath out through his nose, a not-quite sound of amusement. Orlando leads the way, dipping his head slightly as he passes through the low doorway. Elijah follows him, and Sean idles after him.

The house is not large, but comfortable, well-lit, and well-warmed.

"Make yerselves comfortable," Sean says, gesturing to the chairs nearest to the fireplace as he passes on to another door. "Miranda! I have guests!"

Orlando and Elijah strip off their gauntlets and pull their kerchiefs out of the necks of their armor. Orlando sits down, but Elijah remains standing by the fire.

"You look well, Fire Breather," Sean says, coming back to them.

"Why do you call him that?" Elijah asks.

"Because I know more about dragons than any other mortal who has ever existed," Orlando says.

"Just so," Sean says evenly.

Miranda comes through the farther door, carrying a pewter platter with a jug and several filled plates on it. She glances at Orlando, her expression smooth and cool, then she sees Elijah. She darts another look at Orlando, her eyes hotter and harder than before.

"Set it down," Sean says quietly.

Miranda puts the platter down on the table, and draws three pewter cups from the group arranged at the far end of the board. She pours out wine from the jug into the cups, then dips a brief curtsy at Sean, a hard glance at Elijah, and leaves the room.

\---

"Elijah needs armor."

"I saw nothing wrong with the coat of mail he's wearing now," Sean says, frowning a little.

"It's not this one," Orlando says, touching himself on the chest.

Sean's frown deepens into a scowl of confusion, and then disbelief.

"You want me teh - what? Take your armor and - "

" - make it fit Elijah."

Sean shakes his head.

"No," he says sharply. "Yeh've done me no wrong, Fire Breather, and I won't do you such an ill-turn as that."

"He's going to fight Ice Heart."

" … _ah_."

Sean rocks back on his heels, considering Orlando thoughtfully, then shakes his head again.

"Your armor isn't - I can't take a bit out, and put it back again afterwards. If I make your armor small enough to fit Elijah, you won't be able to wear it ever again."

"It's mine to give away," Orlando says.

"No it isn't, any more than a man can give away his skin," Sean says, folding his arms. "I won't do it. There's nothing you can say to me that will change my mind, so don't bother arguing with me."

"Can we stay here tonight? I don't want to push the horses hard," Orlando says.

Sean's expression flickers in surprise at Orlando's easy acceptance of his refusal.

"Aye, of course … of course yeh can."

\---

Orlando leans down over Elijah. Elijah stares up at him, eyes wide and dark in the candlelight.

"Elijah. Do you trust me?" Orlando whispers.

"Yes of course," Elijah says at once.

"Then … let me … "

Orlando brushes the words against the corner of Elijah's mouth, and then strokes the tip of his tongue across Elijah's lips. For a moment Elijah's body remains light and tense under Orlando's, and then, very deliberately, Elijah relaxes. He lets his hands fall open on the blankets, and his head sink back into the pillow.

"Yes," Orlando breathes, touching Elijah's cheek and ear and hair, "just … "

He slips downwards a little, pressing soft kisses to the underside of Elijah's jaw, dragging his teeth gently against the soft fuzz of beard growing on the tip of Elijah's chin. Elijah inhales deeply, lets the air shiver out again between his lips.

Orlando moves a little lower, brushing his fingertips on Elijah's collarbones and the tips of his shoulders, and then kissing away the echoes of his touches. Elijah starts to shift a little, lifting his hips to press himself against Orlando's stomach.

Orlando takes his time, nuzzling into the creases of skin around Elijah's armpits, and trailing the tip of his tongue around Elijah's nipples. Elijah squirms restlessly. Orlando kisses him on the throat again, and pinches one nipple softly. Elijah makes a sound of shocked pleasure, a harsh gasp that's clear as a spoken word.

Orlando smiles against Elijah's skin.

\---

"My turn," Elijah says, when the shudders have almost faded.

"No," Orlando says softly.

Elijah scowls, more in confusion than actual annoyance.

" _Trust me_ ," Orlando says, sleeking both hands down Elijah's thighs.

Elijah arches slightly into Orlando touch, and nods vigorously.

"I do ... _I do_."

\---

Elijah is crying out loudly, terrible wrenching sounds of sheer ecstasy that he can't hear above the hammer and anvil of his own heartbeat.

"Oh God - oh God - "

Orlando curls his fingers just a little more, flutters his fingertips into the wall of Elijah's guts, mimicking the flutter of his tongue around the slit of Elijah's glans. Elijah arches, aches, his whole body shuddering on the edge of the fall and then

" - oh God Orlando _oh God_ \- "

he tumbles, his body jerking from skull to shins with the violence of his orgasm. Orlando half-chokes, coughs, swallows hastily. Elijah groans, his fists and feet curling and flexing helplessly.

" - oh God - _Orlando_ \- "

Elijah's quivering turns to a broken sobbing, half-relief, half-horror.

" - oh God ... oh God ... "

Orlando pushes up, slithering upwards along Elijah's body.

"I love you," Orlando hisses softly, staring down at Elijah's tear-streaked face.

"Oh God," Elijah groans, "I love you too."

He winds himself around Orlando, arms and legs wrapping around Orlando's body.

"I love you," Orlando says clearly. "I will never leave you. I swear, no matter what happens, I will never leave you."

Elijah pushes at Orlando's hair, and thrusts his mouth against Orlando's. He's utterly exhausted, his limbs burning with the effort of holding onto Orlando. Orlando murmurs softly, stroking Elijah's biceps and his thighs, laying his limbs down on the bed. Elijah tries to struggle upwards again, but sleep as heavy and deep as death winds around him.

\---

Orlando comes to the door of Sean's workroom, his mail-coat in his arms. The metal scales are a softly shining shade of gold, darkened in places to copper to amber and the color of dried blood.

"You said there was nothing I could say _to you_ to change your mind," Orlando says steadily, laying his mail-coat down in front of Sean.

"You're mad," Sean says.

"There are more important things than going back," Orlando says.

" _Love_?" Sean grimaces.

"And revenge," Orlando smiles.

\---

Elijah shoulders against his horse's side, tightening the saddle girth and trying to ignore the weight of Miranda's stare. He straightens up, gathering his horse's reins in one hand.

"Don't trust him," Miranda says sharply.

Elijah tilts his head in confusion.

" _Orlando_ ," Miranda says. "Don't trust him. He's using you - he's - "

The chink of spurs against stirrups stops her. Sean is leading Orlando's horse around the corner of the house, with Orlando in the saddle. Elijah frowns a little at the sight of Orlando without his mail-coat, but Orlando smiles at him as if to reassure him. Elijah swings up into his own saddle. Sean lets go of Orlando's horse and steps back.

"Thank you," Orlando says to Sean, the words heavier than they need to be.

"Don't thank me, I don't want thanks," Sean says, clearly trying not to scowl any more than he already is.

"What do you want?" Orlando asks, tipping his face away slightly.

"Jus' don't reproach me with it later, an' I'll consider myself well paid," Sean says.

Orlando smiles, slight but infinitely warm.

"I promise," he says.

He touches his heel to his horse's side, and twitches the reins, drawing his horse around in a tight circle. Elijah jingles his spurs, and his horse moves forward to join Orlando's.

"Goodbye," Orlando says to Sean.

"Good luck ... teh the both of yeh," Sean says.

Orlando kicks his horse forward, and Elijah follows him down the roadway.

Sean stands staring after them.

"Yeh wrong him," he announces after a moment.

He turns, meeting Miranda's hard stare.

"He's a man now," Sean says mildly, "there's no point in hating him for what he was before."

"He's the _shape_ of a man now," Miranda says. "He _is_ what he always was ... a deceiver."

"Bloody women," Sean sighs, looking back at the two horsemen disappearing over the first rise of the road.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the last time we saw them (two flipping years ago), orlando and elijah had left orlando's mail-coat with sean and returned to orlando's cave. sean is, reluctantly, going to cut orlando's mail-coat down to fit elijah (elijah doesn't know this).

Elijah goes to where their blankets are spread on the ground. He sits, and then reclines, resting on one elbow. Orlando comes to him, kneeling next to him.

Elijah smiles, trying to coax something from Orlando's strange abstraction. Orlando smiles in response, slightly at first, and then with narrow-eyed heat.

"You ... are priceless," Orlando says, running his fingers along Elijah's side, from his waist down to his knee. "The whole world would be well given, to have you here, like this."

Elijah tilts his weight towards Orlando a little more, and reaches out to touch him on the chest.

"Last night ... the things you did to me ... " Elijah murmurs.

Orlando's hand skims back up Elijah's thigh, under the hem of his tunic, and cups the bulge of Elijah's erection through his leggings.

"You want me to do them to you again?" Orlando says, nuzzling his lips against Elijah's ear.

"N--no," Elijah breathes, though his whole body shapes a 'yes' by arching into Orlando's hand. "I want you -- to let me do them to you."

Orlando inhales shakily, his fingers flexing on Elijah's cock.

"I want you to feel the way I did," Elijah says quietly, letting his fingers trail over Orlando's shirt until he finds the small bump of Orlando's nipple through the thin cloth, and pinches softly.

Orlando groans, his eyes flickering closed and his body rocking forwards a little.

"Lie down," Elijah says.

Orlando opens his eyes again, looking at Elijah with something that's close to doubt.

"Lie down," Elijah says again, pushing up from his elbow. "Let me try."

Orlando resists, just a tremor of tension in his muscles that Elijah overcomes by putting his hand in the middle of Orlando's chest and pressing him back, and down, onto his elbows, flat onto his back. Elijah leans over him, undoing the ties of his shirt and spreading the two sides of the garment apart to expose the golden skin of Orlando's chest.

"This is how you started, I think," Elijah whispers.

He leans down, touching his lips to Orlando's temple, his cheekbone, the flesh at the corner of his mouth. Orlando's hand comes up, tentatively, and touches the nape of Elijah's neck.

"Elijah ... "

Elijah puts his mouth on Orlando's, catching the warm breath of his own name. Orlando parts his lips, and Elijah slips his tongue between Orlando's teeth. Orlando's hand tightens a little on Elijah's nape.

Elijah pulls back, slips down a little to kiss the thin beating skin below Orlando's ear.

"And then ... like this," Elijah murmurs, sliding farther down, kissing the crest of Orlando's collarbone. He fingers Orlando's nipple, rubbing the hard pip of flesh backwards and forwards.

Orlando sucks in a deep breath, and lets it go noisily.

"And ... this," Elijah says, flicking the tip of his tongue against the rose-brown skin of Orlando's nipple.

Orlando jerks, driving the solid bulge of his crotch into Elijah's belly.

"Ah -- "

"And there was this ... " Elijah shifts, moving his mouth to Orlando's other nipple, while he fingers the one that's wet and cool with his own saliva.

Orlando lifts his hips, lifting Elijah with him.

"Oh -- God," Orlando husks.

Elijah grins against Orlando's skin.

"And then ... I think I remember," Elijah teases. "There was ... "

Orlando freezes as Elijah pulls back and up, to straddle Orlando's thighs. Elijah pulls open the knotted cord of Orlando's leggings, stripping the laces out of their eyelets while Orlando holds himself to shaking stillness. Elijah pushes cloth aside, hooking his hand into heat and dampness and drawing Orlando's cock out. Orlando shifts sharply, his breath snapping out of his nostrils. Elijah fists the shaft of Orlando's cock, moving silk soft skin over rock hard flesh.

"You learn -- well," Orlando manages to say.

Elijah glances at him, dark-eyed, and then dips his head down to take Orlando's cock into his mouth. Orlando cries out, a sharp low sound, and claps one hand on Elijah's shoulder, but Elijah's shrugs him off.

Orlando's reduced to digging his fingers into the blankets, clenching his fists as Elijah starts to suck, sliding his lips up and down deliberately. Elijah flickers his eyes closed, giving himself up to the sensation of Orlando's cock sliding on his tongue, listening to the hitch and break of Orlando's breath.

Orlando writhes luxuriously, digging the fingers of one hand into Elijah's hair and riding the lift and lower of Elijah's head. As Elijah persists, Orlando's body tightens and his movements becoming more jagged.

"Oh -- my -- _sweet_ student," Orlando groans.

Elijah slides both hands up Orlando's bare stomach and chest, down his sides. Orlando arches, lifting himself into Elijah's touch, driving his cock into Elijah's mouth. Elijah's breath stumbles, steadies again.

"I -- I'm going to come," Orlando grinds, clenching his teeth, fisting his hand in Elijah's hair.

Elijah grips Orlando by the hips, pinning him while Elijah keeps sucking, sliding ...

"There -- _there_ ," Orlando husks, trying to draw his knees up despite the weight of Elijah on his thighs.

He shudders deeply, and Elijah swallows a salt-sour mouthful of semen.

Orlando sags back on the blankets, laughing shakily.

"Well proven," he says breathlessly.

Elijah lifts his head lazily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"That is the first part of the lesson," he says.

Orlando shifts, tenses.

"There was a second part to the lesson you gave _me_ ," Elijah says, moving down to take hold of one of Orlando's boots.

Orlando lifts his foot in obedience to Elijah's tugging, and Elijah pulls the boot off and tosses it aside, then does the same with the other boot. Then he crawls back up the length of Orlando's legs, and takes hold of the open fronts of Orlando's leggings. Orlando, staring at Elijah, lifts his hips to let Elijah strip the soft cloth down off his haunches, down his legs, and off.

Elijah runs his hands over Orlando's legs, feeling the muscles jitter slightly under his fingers. He dips his face to Orlando's stomach, touching his lips to heated skin.

"Here, you asked me if I trusted you," Elijah murmurs.

Orlando shifts, subsides. Elijah looks up, his eyes dark. Orlando stares back.

Elijah slips one hand between Orlando's thighs, his fingers brushing slong the curve of Orlando's balls.

"Do you trust me?" Elijah asks.

Orlando frowns.

"Yes ... "

Elijah nudges his hand from side to side, guiding Orlando's legs further apart. Elijah puts his index and middle fingers into his mouth, and brings them away wet. Orlando presses one foot to the blanket, tilting his hips slightly, giving Elijah space to reach under him and slip his fingers along heated flesh from Orlando's tailbone to his anus.

"Before you touched me, you told me not to be afraid," Elijah murmurs.

Orlando's forehead furrows slightly.

"Don't be afraid," Elijah says softly.

Orlando turns his face aside, and closes his eyes.

Elijah touches his, fingertips circling softly on silky skin. Twice more Elijah wets his fingers, and strokes his saliva onto Orlando's body, then _presses_ softly inwards. Orlando's body yields. Orlando sighs deeply, rolling his head against the blankets.

"Yes ... "

Heat flickers over Elijah's skin, and his heart thumps solidly in his chest. He presses his fingers deeper, stroking and turning and coaxing, bending his head to brush his lips against Orlando's skin.

"Mmm ... yes."

Orlando stretches, squirms, sinks back under Elijah's hands, rolling his hips to meet each push of Elijah's fingers. Elijah grazes his lips over Orlando's stomach, over the shaft of his cock. Orlando is getting hard again, his cock lifting a little with each beat of his pulse. Elijah covers the head with his mouth, tasting the little metallic sting of Orlando's semen again.

Elijah closes his eyes, giving himself up to touch and taste and smell. Orlando's body moves in subtle, powerful waves under Elijah's hands and mouth.

Elijah can feel the steady rise of tension in Orlando's body ... or, in his own. Elijah rolls his hips subtly from side to side, playing his bodyweight against his own erection, pressed between his belly and the blankets.

Orlando's breathing turns harsh, and he starts to tremble. Elijah plunges his mouth farther down Orlando's cock, and pushes his fingers deeper into Orlando's body. Orlando gasps, clutching at Elijah's shoulder.

"Oh God -- yes -- _yes_."

He comes, his body convulsing around the fixed point of Elijah's fingers inside him. Elijah swallows deeply, and twists his fingers, half-drunk with his own pleasure in Orlando's pleasure.

"Oh God, oh God," Orlando pants, his body unraveling into loose-limbed helplessness.

Elijah presses kisses onto Orlando's thighs, onto the finely furred skin of his balls.

"God ... God ... "

Elijah kneels up between Orlando's legs, and hastily pulls at the lacings of his own leggings. Orlando looks at him, heavy-lidded, languid-eyed.

Elijah gets his hand onto his own cock and starts to rub briskly. He's so hard, so excited, that his orgasm begins to coalesce within seconds. He grimaces, trying and failing to slow down, to linger for even a moment. His thighs begin to tremble, and then his entire spine catches the tremor.

"Elijah ... " Orlando says, one hand cupping between Elijah's legs.

Elijah bends, semen spurting from his cock, his eyelids fluttering feverishly. He remains, bowed down over Orlando's body, until he can make sense out of his own thundering heartbeat and labored breathing. Then he sits back on his heels, and wipes his hair out of his face.

"Did I remember my lesson?" he asks.

Orlando fumbles one hand to Elijah's face, cupping his cheek.

"Too well," Orlando says solemnly.

Elijah almost smiles, but there's something in Orlando's dark eyes that makes it strangely difficult.

 

Elijah wakes soon after dawn to find himself alone. He gets up from the tangle of blankets, tugging the lacings of his leggings together as he stands. He steps out from under the overhanging rock, into cool sunlight. He walks to the edge of the rock plateau, and gazes down at the tree tops below.

"Orlando," he calls experimentally.

He goes back to the cave and picks up his sword-sheath, stripping the blade from its covering before walking back to where the plateau falls away in a steep slope, leading down to the forest floor. Elijah moves quickly and quietly, glancing from side to side as he goes.

At the foot of the rock, the water that trickles down from above forms a small pool and a relieving stream. Elijah catches sight of something dull red there, half-hidden in the soft undergrowth of ferns and shade-flowers ... Orlando's faded velvet shirt.

"Orlando!"

Elijah runs to him. Orlando is on his knees, doubled over as if in pain, his hand pressed to his side.

"What happened?" Elijah asks, dropping his sword and easing Orlando's hand away from his side.

Orlando shakes his head.

There's blood on Orlando's hand, and soaked through the cloth of his shirt, darkening its faded red, but there's no tear in the cloth. Elijah lifts Orlando's shirt, to uncover a clean cut that runs from under Orlando's arm, down his ribs, almost to his waist.

"What ... what happened?" Elijah insists.

Orlando tries to smile through a grimace of pain.

"Sean ... is a good workman. He ... starts work with the sun."

"Sean ... ?" Elijah says in confusion.

Orlando gasps, and clutches at Elijah. Under Elijah's disbelieving eyes, the cut on Orlando's side lengthens, surging down onto his hip.

"Oh my God," Elijah breathes. "What ... what is he doing? What is he doing _to you_?"

Orlando exhales, riding the wave of pain as it crests and levels. He forces a smile through clenched teeth.

"Only what I have asked him to do," he says.

"There has to be some way to stop -- "

" _No_. Stay with me. I ... I need you to stay with me."

Elijah frowns, but nods agreement. Orlando sags against him, waiting for the next cut.


	5. Chapter 5

Orlando bleeds first from his sides, and then from his neck and wrists. Towards evening, the cuts begin to close as mysteriously as they opened; by dusk, there is no trace of them. Only the blood stains on his skin, his clothes, and the ground beneath him, prove it was not a dream.

"Help me up," Orlando says.

Elijah looks doubtful.

"I'm just tired," Orlando says, smiling weakly.

Elijah tucks his shoulder under Orlando's armpit, and heaves him to his feet. Orlando sways, then steadies.

"Help me up to the cave," he says, his voice growing firmer with each word.

He stumbles once or twice as they make their way up the rock-side, but by the time they reach the plateau, he's strong enough to step away from Elijah's support. Orlando walks to where their blankets are spread out under the overhanging rock. and pulls his shirt off over his head, grimacing at the stiffening stains on the velvet. He throws the shirt aside, and drops to his knees, and then to his hands and knees, his head hanging down.

Elijah slops some water from a bucket into a bowl, and pulls a clean cloth from his saddle-roll. He crouches next to Orlando.

"Lie down. Let me clean you," Elijah says.

Orlando groans, and rolls onto his back, arms and legs sprawled. Elijah dips the cloth and wrings it out, then leans in and begins to wipe away the streaks of dried blood and sweat from Orlando's chest. Orlando groans again, in appreciation, and closes his eyes.

Elijah works his way over Orlando's shoulders and down his arms, to his hands.

"Why Eyzart?" Orlando asks softly, without opening his eyes. "What has he done to you?"

Elijah crinkles the corners of his eyes in slight bemusement.

"Does a man need a reason to kill a dragon?" he asks. "Other than, it _is_ a dragon?"

Orlando opens his eyes slightly. Elijah rinses the cloth and wrings it again, and bends his head to wipe Orlando's stomach.

"The valleys below Eyzart's lair," he says evenly. "My grandfather held that land. If it were not for Eyzart, I would hold that land ... those farms, those pastures, those people ... "

Orlando's smile fades. He narrows his eyes.

"There's ... there's nothing there," he says, "just ... ice."

Elijah jerks his chin.

"The dragon Eyzart brings winter wherever it goes," he says. "They say, its touch and its breath and even its glance can freeze a man's heart. Is that true ... _Fire Breather_?"

Orlando exhales softly.

" _Ice Heart_ ," he says. "His dragon name is Ice Heart, but it has been so many years that men have forgotten those are the words."

Orlando reaches out, takes hold of Elijah's wrist, and draws him in until they're face to face, Elijah leaning down over Orlando.

"Fire is the thing he craves," Orlando says quietly, "and hates and _fears_ because he craves it."

He stares into Elijah's eyes, as if seeking some confirmation, and after a moment Elijah nods, as if giving it.

Elijah wipes across Orlando's stomach one more time, and drops the cloth into the bowl of water. He unpicks the lacings of Orlando's leggings, which are a little blood-stained around the top. Orlando helpfully lifts his hips, letting Elijah strip him. Elijah throws the leggings on top of the blood-stained shirt, and shakes the dust off Orlando's boots before dropping them next to Orlando's saddle-roll.

He comes back to Orlando, who's stretched out on the blankets, naked and half-erect.

"You should _rest_ ," Elijah says, wringing out the cloth and wiping away the last smudges of blood, from Orlando's hips and the curve of his waist.

Orlando's cock hardens completely, lying as straight and taut as an arrow against the pale gold hollow of his stomach.

"I _am_ resting," Orlando reasonably. "Take your clothes off."

Elijah hesitates. Orlando drops his hand between his own legs, and palms upwards over his balls, making his cock lift eagerly. Elijah flushes, chewing his bottom lip, and gives in. He pulls his tunic off over his head, and heels his boots off, before undoing his leggings and stripping them off too. He goes to Orlando, kneeling down at his side.

"Lie down with me," Orlando coaxes.

Elijah stretches himself out along the length of Orlando's body, pale against gold. He rests like that for a moment, cheekbone against cheekbone, chest against chest, Elijah's hipbones cupped just above Orlando's, the arches of Elijah's feet against Orlando's ankles.

Then, softly, like a dreaming swimmer, Elijah lifts his hands and touches Orlando's sides, stroking slowly down from armpit to hips. Orlando's eyes flicker closed, the better to feel each delicate touch. Elijah lets each breath lift his hands, press down his hips, a whole-body caress of Orlando's whole body.

Elijah can feel Orlando's cock against him, can feel his own cock pushing hard between their flesh, but he holds himself to the same gentle, tidal stroke of his hands and tilt of his hips. It's Orlando who winds his arms around Elijah's back and grips him tighter, who thrusts his hips up more aggressively.

"Shh," Elijah breathes, stilling, trying to turn his caresses to soothing.

"Shh yourself," Orlando grins, growls, as he winds himself arms and legs around Elijah and rolls them over on the blankets so that Elijah's under him.

"You're too weak," Elijah says severely.

"I'm fine," Orlando growls, glaring playfully at Elijah before swarming down the front of Elijah's body, blurring kisses all the way down into his groin.

Elijah laughs, gasps, groans. He winds his fingers into Orlando's hair, cherishing the curve of Orlando's skull.

"Mmm ... teach me something," Elijah says, half teasing.

Orlando drags his teeth delicately along Elijah's skin, and laughs softly.

"Very well."

He presses one more kiss to Elijah's hip, pulls away, stands up.

"Are you teaching me to be less imperious?" Elijah asks in mostly mock concern, as Orlando walks away.

Orlando crouches at his saddle-roll, taking something from a leather pouch.

"I'm teaching you ... that spit isn't enough," he grins, coming back to kneel between Elijah's thighs.

Elijah lifts his eyebrows.

"But ... it was ... "

"I had this much of my fingers inside you," Orlando says, crooking the top joint of his index and middle fingers. "This time, I'm going to ... "

He straightens his fingers, arching them backwards. Elijah flushes to the tips of his ears.

" ... so I'm going to use this," Orlando says, displaying the little earthenware pot in his other hand.

Elijah flexes his spine, frowns in concentration.

"Come to me," Orlando says, guiding Elijah with one hand on Elijah's hip, so that Elijah lifts himself and shifts forwards, to rest his behind in Orlando's lap, his thighs spread open.

Elijah flushes a little, not yet aroused enough to have lost all sense of self-consciousness.

"Don't be ashamed," Orlando says, petting the inside of Elijah's thigh. "Don't be shy ... you are beautiful, everywhere. You have nothing to hide."

Elijah's body eases down into Orlando's lap; Elijah lets his arms fall back above his head, offering Orlando the naked, unguarded length of his body.

Orlando opens the little pot, and gathers ointment on the tips of his index and middle fingers. He smears his fingertips against Elijah's anus. The ointment starts to soften at once in the heat of Elijah's skin. Orlando circles his fingertips, then hooks softly inwards, and flexes his fingers. Elijah quivers, parsing the sensation now from a place of almost-composure, compared to the previous, pleasure-fevered experience. He rolls his head from side to side on the blanket, luxurious, receptive.

Orlando moves his fingers out a little, in a little, and then _in_ in a sudden slide that makes Elijah exhale harshly, but his body remains in its soft, yielding arch, his behind in Orlando's lap and his shoulders and head resting on the blankets.

Orlando rocks his whole body slightly, pushing his fingers deeper, twisting, touching in a way that Elijah's body hardly understands. Elijah writhes slowly.

"Does it hurt?" Orlando breathes.

"No ... no," Elijah frowns. "It's ... it's just ... so much."

Orlando smiles wolfishly, curves his torso over Elijah's, pushes his fingers even deeper, pushes a groan from Elijah's chest.

"When I know you're ready, I'm going to put my cock in you," Orlando husks. "I'm going to fuck you, and come in you."

Elijah's eyes widen, and Orlando feels Elijah's body clamp rigidly around his fingers. Elijah's expression edges.

"When I _know_ you're ready," Orlando insists, smoothing his free hand over Elijah's chest and stomach. "When I know it will be pure pleasure for you."

Elijah's breathing opens again, and he nods, and Orlando's to move his fingers a little. Orlando draws back, pushes in, so gently, rewinning the ease he had a moment ago. Elijah sighs, yields. Orlando catches hold of Elijah's right ankle and lifts it, guides Elijah's foot to Orlando's shoulder. The change of angle makes Elijah gasp, and grip Orlando's thigh under him.

" _Oh_ ... good ... so good ... " Elijah murmurs.

He draws his hand into his own lap, taking hold of his cock and pumping the shaft. Orlando grins at him, eyes glittering.

"Oh God I'm going to come," Elijah says, his body arching up, lifting his behind off Orlando's thighs. "I'm going to come ... "

Orlando rocks his fingers inside Elijah, pumps his own cock with his other hand.

"Oh God ... "

Elijah's body stills, quivers. Orlando feels the opening of Elijah's body pulse around his fingers, one, two, three -- Orlando twists his fingers free and shoves himself forward, pressing the head of his cock against the pulsing ring of muscle. Elijah, even through the sense-obliteration of his own orgasm, feels the shock of smoothness and heat against his anus and groans deeply. Orlando hisses in pleasure at the sensation of Elijah's body still pulsing out its pleasure, right against his cock -- four, a faint five, a ghostly six ...

" _Oh God_ ..."

Orlando pumps his fist under the head of his cock, gulps a breath, and tenses as his own orgasm rolls through him, his semen squeezing out into the crevice between his cock and Elijah's anus.

Elijah rocks his hips, the interface between his body and Orlando's scorchingly hot and slippery sweet. Orlando cock slides down the crease of Elijah's behind, softening as it goes.

Orlando, gasping for breath, unfolds his legs and stretches out next to Elijah, their legs still tangled together.

"Oh. God," Elijah says breathlessly, twisting his head to look at Orlando's face.

Orlando bares his teeth, and nods. Elijah grins, and wipes his own sweat-wet hair off his face.

"So good," Elijah says, rolling in against Orlando's side.

They lie together, fingers idling over cooling skin.

"What will you teach me tomorrow?" Elijah asks.

"Tomorrow ... Sean will teach you," Orlando says gravely. "Go to him, and do as he tells you. Do you understand? If you refuse him, you refuse me."

"No, I don't understand," Elijah says evenly, "but ... I _trust_. I will go, and I will do as he says."


	6. Chapter 6

Elijah slips from his saddle and drapes his horse's reins over the gatepost. Sean is already leaning in the open doorway of his workshop.

"How is he?" Sean asks.

Elijah nods, shrugs one shoulder.

"He's ... he's okay."

Sean dips his head in relief, then looks at Elijah.

"What did he tell you?" Sean asks.

"Nothing. He told me -- to do as you say."

Sean snicks an almost laugh.

"Well then ... come inside."

Elijah obeys, following Sean into the workshop. The forge spills red light into the gloom, glowing on brass and gold and steel.

"Take off your mail," Sean says, his back to Elijah.

Elijah strips his gauntlets off his hands, and pulls his kerchief from around his neck. He undoes his sword belt, and then opens the buckles that hold his mail coat closed. He shrugs it off, the heavy links clinking softly together.

Sean lifts Orlando's mail coat from a bench, and lets it fall from its folds to hang from his uplifted hands. Elijah frowns, perplexed by how the coat seems _smaller_ than he remembers.

"Put it on," Sean says.

"Me? No it's -- "

Elijah stops, remembering his promise to Orlando. Hesitantly, he reaches out, takes the coat from Sean's hands. The garment is lighter than he expects, and supple as silk. Slowly, Elijah draws it on, slipping his arms into the sleeves, pulling it up onto his shoulders, bringing the fronts together and latching the silver clasps. The coat fits closely, and moves as fluidly as his own skin.

Elijah looks up at Sean.

"Come closer," Sean says.

Elijah steps forwards. The fire beats heat around Sean, lifting strands of his hair and stirring the collar of his shirt.

"Closer."

Elijah tilts his head back to look Sean in the face.

"Put your hand ... into the fire," Sean says.

Elijah's eyes flicker. He draws breath to protest, and then ...

... he furrows his brow, and grits his teeth, and reaches out, his small hand splayed as he stretched towards the flames licking over the bright red coals. He feels the ripple of the air, and the soft touch of the sparks and ...

... and it's like dipping his fingertips into the stream water. He thrusts his hand deeper, driving his fingers among the cool rough pebbles of the coals.

"I -- I don't understand," he gasps, grinning up at Sean in wonder.

"The coat's charm protects you against all fire," Sean says.

Elijah withdraws his hand again, examining the cool unmarred skin of his palm.

"Now, understand," Sean says. "You can't kill a dragon with fire, but Ice Heart can be ... unsettled by it. Dragons see for great distances, but at close quarters their eyes are not good. It may be, in the confusion of fire, wearing Fire Breather's coat and smelling of Fire Breather ... Ice Heart may take you for Fire Breather, and hesitate."

Elijah nods gravely.

Sean touches him, touches the scales that curve around the tip of Elijah's shoulder.

" ... to do whatever I say, eh?" Sean murmurs.

Elijah lets his stillness, his acceptance of Sean's touch answer for him. Sean smiles slightly, a crooked tucking of one corner of his mouth. He dips his head, bringing his face nearer to Elijah's. Elijah flickers his eyelids.

"Then, I say ... Fire Breather has given you everything he has," Sean says softly. "Be worth it."

Elijah stares into Sean's eyes.

"The ... the smell of Fire Breather, how will he make me smell like him?" Elijah asks, though he already suspects the answer.

Sean smiles widens. He puts his lips almost to Elijah's ear.

"He'll fuck you," Sean husks. "He'll fuck you, and you'll smell of him ... for an hour, or two."

Elijah squeezes his eyes shut.

"What does Fire Breather want with Ice Heart?" he whispers.

"What does anyone want with a lover who's discarded them?"

 

\---

 

It's dark when Elijah heels his horse up the steep slope to Orlando's cave. The fire is burning, built higher than usual, and Orlando is sitting on the ground on the far side of the flames. Elijah dismounts, lets his reins fall. Orlando stands, stares.

"Come to me," he says, after a moment.

Elijah glances to the side.

"Through the fire," Orlando says. "Come to me ... through the fire."

Elijah steps forward. He sets his foot down among the burning logs. The flames lick around him, higher than his head. It feels like a breeze blowing around him, flapping the hem of his mail coat a little. He walks slowly, picking his footing across the burning wood, and steps out from the other side of the fire.

Orlando smiles, his eyes reflecting the firelight.

"It's ... you are beautiful," he says softly.

Elijah's breath breaks. He reaches up, winding his arm around Orlando's neck and pulling him down.

"Now," Elijah rasps, "fuck me now. I want it _now_."

Orlando's fingers dig painfully into Elijah's hair, pushing his head back. Orlando bares his teeth, and smears his thumbs over the corners of Elijah's mouth.

"Ah ... no," Orlando breathes. "Not yet ... it's too soon."

"No," Elijah pleads, both hands on Orlando's sides, his hips, the curves of his haunches. "Please, now ... "

"No, you don't understand, I can't - "

"You won't," Elijah snaps, still clutching at him. "You'll fuck me before I fight Ice Heart, but not now, not when I ask you."

Orlando's face softens, his hands stroking, supplicating, in Elijah's hair and on his face.

"I -- I love you," Orlando falters. "I love you, and I -- I can't, not now, not -- "

Elijah grimaces in pain.

" -- please," Orlando murmurs, "please, trust me, _trust_ me."

Elijah nods, shakily at first, and then more certainly. He touches Orlando's lips with his fingertips.

"You ... do it to me," Orlando says. "Fuck me."

Elijah's eyes widen, narrow.

"Fuck me," Orlando says again. "Make me feel -- make me feel."

Elijah nods again. They somehow -- without taking eyes or hands off each other -- back their way under the rock, falter down to their knees together on the blankets.

"I am yours," Orlando says, untying the front of his own tunic, stripping himself for Elijah.

"Fire Breather," Elijah says, pushing Orlando down onto his back.

"Not now, not anymore -- you're as much dragon as I am, now."


End file.
